Trust: A Yesterday's Enterprise Story
by Orangeblossom
Summary: In the alternate universe of Yesterday's Enterprise, Tasha Yar and Data have become good friends. This story looks at how they came to trust each other and build that friendship.
1. Chapter 1

Thanks to Graham Gilligan, who gave me a much-needed lesson in the physics of spaceflight, and why we all need inertial dampers.

* * *

Military Log, Stardate 41168.3. This Galaxy-class battleship _Enterprise_ has barely taken on its full crew when we are asked by Starfleet to prove our mettle. We have taken on board at Starbase 114 an intercept scout, a new class of vessel developed for use in reconnaissance missions deep into Klingon territory. The scout has warp capability but it can also use liquid fuel for propulsion, a sort of "stealth mode" since Klingon sensors are attuned to look for the sophisticated energy signatures of impulse engines and warp drives. It has minimal armament and shielding capabilities, but the most sophisticated sensor and recording equipment available. It's sleek, stripped down, built for surveillance and evasion, not battle. Chief of operations and second-in-command Lieutenant Commander Data, with his information processing capacity and superior piloting skills, and chief tactical and weapons officer Lieutenant Tasha Yar, the top Klingon strategist and armament expert on the front lines, have been selected to take the scout, christened the _Cixous_, for its first mission.

* * *

Captain Picard tugged at his silver phaser sash absently and reactivated the recorder. "Captain's personal log." He paused, remembering the look on his new first officer's face as he'd left the ready room. "Perhaps, in another lifetime, Will Riker and I could have been friends, instead of having to play this adversarial, devil's advocate game with each other. He's right, of course. This isn't the time to ask a new, unseasoned crew to undertake something like a reconnaissance mission in the heart of Klingon territory."

Picard sighed. "But during war there never _is_ a good time. And Will was right when he said Starfleet had no business sending such young people into battle situations. Yes, they are the best in their classes and at their specialities, but they don't have any time on the lines. But I have no choice. Someone has to take the mission, and the computer concurred that the best people for the job are a young, brilliant tactical officer and the only android in Starfleet, neither of whom had shown that they knew how to get along with other people, that they are good mission material. The android, although a walking encyclopedia, lacks in the social graces. And the tactical officer has an almost hairtrigger temper." He touched the intercom.

"This is the captain. Lieutenant Yar. Lieutenant Commander Data. Report to my ready room immediately."

Picard noticed the contrasts between the two officers as they faced him: Yar's stance was tense, energy running palpably through her as if she were a live wire, while Data held himself with perfectly correct posture, calm and composed.

After he had outlined their mission, Yar pointed out anxiously, wanting to prove herself to the captain, "Sir, I'm a class-10 rated pilot. I can take this mission by myself, there's no need for Commander Data — "

"Commander Data is rated class-12," Picard told her. "He has the skill and the reflexes necessary to perform the second-by-second compensations called for during evasive maneuvers." When he saw that she might object further, he added, "In any case, a Human could not withstand the potential G-stresses in such a craft and remain conscious to do the necessary piloting. But Commander Data can."

She swallowed her disappointment — she hadn't wanted him to think her weak for not doing the mission solo — and her trepidation at flying a mission with the android. She looked over at Data, who appeared unperturbed by her outburst, and then back at Picard. "Aye, sir."

* * *

Yar reported to the shuttlecraft bay with her equipment case and wearing the special flight suit designed to help her with the worst of the G-stresses and found Data, dressed in a similar flight suit, already checking out the scout. She took a deep breath and strode onto the hangar deck, unlimbering her case and taking out a tricorder to do her own scan.

Data noted what she was doing and commented mildly, "It is not necessary for you to run a diagnostic, as I am already — "

"I'd prefer to do my own scan, thanks," she cut him off.

He persisted, "But if we are both doing the same scan, with virtually identical equipment, I see no reason that — "

She turned to him, exasperated. "Do I have to explain everything I do to you? I've been on other missions where even triple redundancies didn't pick up something that should have been noted. We're going into unknown territory with an unproven piece of equipment, Commander. I'd like my chances of coming back alive to remain as high as possible."

"But surely you realize that, as an android, it is impossible for me to ignore even the slightest divergence from the scout's normal parameters."

She circled the small craft, checking her readings. "Yes, I realize that, Commander. And I won't dispute your abilities in that regard. What I'm talking about is — intuition, knowing that something appears right but doesn't feel right."

The android frowned. "Yes. Intuition is not part of my programming." Then he brightened as a thought occurred to him. "Perhaps you will be able to educate me with respect to intuition during our trip."

She looked sideways at him and then back at her tricorder screen. "Yeah," she said noncommittally.

He finished with his tricorder and closed it as she finished with her own scan and nodded.

"Okay, let's do our pre-flight," she said, and palmed the dorsal hatch open. As he got ready to climb up top, Data observed,

"I sense a level of discomfort when you are around me."

She whirled on him. "Look, Commander, I didn't ask for this assignment! I would have volunteered to do it all by myself, but it wasn't my call to make so let's just do our jobs, okay?"

"As you wish."

She climbed up the scout and in, taking her place at the right-hand science and information console. He quietly followed her and sat down to her left, at the navigation, helm and defense console.

As they did their pre-flight checks, Yar's conscience got the better of her. She knew she wasn't being fair to him and yet she didn't know how to rectify all the anger buried beneath her words. It gnawed at her and the silence built between them until finally she turned to him and said, "Listen — " but when he turned his attention to her, she suddenly didn't know what to say.

"I am listening," he told her patiently.

"My behavior was uncalled for," she blurted. "I'm sorry."

"Your assumption is that my feelings were hurt but, since I am an android, I have no feelings to hurt." He inclined his head. "However, I accept your apology in the spirit it was intended." She breathed a small sigh of relief, but he continued, "I regret that you are uncomfortable working with me, but I understand the reaction. It is often difficult for Humans to work with artificial life forms as — "

"Wait — what?" she asked. "Commander, did you think — did you think this was about your being an android and my not — " When from his expression it became clear that was exactly what he had thought, she actually grinned. "Commander, you couldn't be more wrong!"

"Then my appearance, my very fact of being does not disturb you?"

"That was the farthest thing from my mind, Commander," she assured him. "I don't think I've given your appearance half a thought since I came aboard, and I'm not the kind of person to contemplate questions of metaphysics, believe me!"

"But I have made a study of Human body language and other verbal and physical cues and I believe I read your discomfort around me correctly, did I not?" he asked.

"Yes, you did. But it wasn't what you thought." She looked away, wondering how much she should tell him, but realized she owed him an explanation after the assumption he'd been laboring under all this time. "Commander, I came from a world where you simply couldn't trust anybody. And you learned to survive by relying only on yourself, no one else. It goes against every instinct to put my life in someone else's hands." She looked at him. "That's why I made such a big deal at the briefing about my pilot rating, about why you were needed on the _Enterprise_. I didn't trust you, because I don't trust anyone."

Data assimilated what she had told him with what was on her service record, and realized that she wasn't trying to spare his nonexistent feelings, but was telling the truth. He looked seriously at her. "Has that changed?" he asked.

She looked away again. "I don't know."

He nodded, and turned back to the helm and navigation console. "Launch in 35 seconds," he announced.

Yar opened a comm line. "_Enterprise_, this is the _Cixous_. Launch in...30 seconds."

"_Cixous_, aye," Commander Riker's voice acknowledged. "Good hunting."

"Thank you, sir."

Data eased the scout out of the launch bay at one-quarter impulse. Even at that speed Yar could feel every pitch and yaw and knew that no matter what Data's piloting skill, it was going to be one rough trip.

"Course plotted and laid in," Data said. She acknowledged with a tight nod of her head.

When they had left the _Enterprise_ far enough behind, Data reported, "Switching to 'stealth mode.'" He scanned his readouts as he did so, and made some rapid adjustments. "I will need to take the inertial dampers offline, Lieutenant, while I accelerate the scout in this mode. I will try to keep the acceleration time to a minimum, but — "

Yar knew he was trying to warn her that she might lose consciousness, and gripped her chair arms as she mentally steeled herself. "Let's go, then, Commander."

Incredible pressure forced her back in her seat, and she fought to keep her eyes open. The starfield blurred and burst, then narrowed to a thin line of light surrounded by blackness, and then there was only the dark.

* * *

"...Lieutenant?" She blinked, tried to focus. The stars were standing still in the viewport. She looked to her left, and saw that Data was pointing a tricorder and Feinberger at her.

"I'm fine," she said impatiently, turning to check her screens and readouts, but the android placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Please let me determine that this is the case conclusively," he requested in a mild voice, and she sat still. He carefully checked his readings. "Are you experiencing any unusual visual input?"

She glanced down at her console and read the information there easily. "No. Vision normal."

"Auditory?"

She concentrated. "Just normal ship sounds."

He continued to consult the tricorder readouts, and finally pronounced, "All vital signs are reading normal for a weightless environment."

Grateful, Yar started calibrating her instruments. "How long were you trying to bring me out of it?" she asked.

Data put the tricorder and Feinberger away. "You regained consciousness approximately three minutes after we dropped out of warp."

"What did I miss?"

"An uneventful trip. We flew a mostly straight-line course to our present position. Returning to the _Enterprise_ will present the more difficult challenge."

She nodded and checked a wall readout. "We're getting some telemetry." She fed the readings to the navigation console.

"Changing course," Data confirmed, "two three five mark two eight."

Yar was pushed back in her seat by the change in speed and vector and fought to keep her hands on her controls. "Shields?" she asked.

"One hundred percent and holding."

As they neared the center of the telemetry readings, they came to a dead stop and Yar activated their focused sensors. Working quickly, they collected as much information as they could, the both of them so in tune with the instruments and procedures they barely had to speak to each other, as if by telepathy they told each other what had to be done, and when they discovered they should go even deeper into enemy territory to get a crucial piece of information, there were no questions, just two people in absolute synchronicity who knew what their job was and getting it done.

All their information collected, Data carefully proceeded to guide the scout to a safe distance from their previous position so the Klingons wouldn't pick up its warp signature when it returned to the _Enterprise_.

Yar, with nothing to do since Data was doing all the piloting, essayed gamely, "So, Commander..."

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

After a pause, she admitted, a little sheepish, "I'm sorry. I meant to make small talk but I have no idea what to say!"

"Small talk — inconsequential conversation meant to fill a socially awkward silence or to put another person at their ease."

"Pretty much."

His expression became intrigued. "I have not had the opportunity to speak of meteorological phenomena with anyone previously."

She had to think about that for a little, and when she realized he was referring to the standard opening gambit of discussing the weather, she smiled at the oddly precise way he had of expressing himself. "Neither have I, which I guess is the problem." She spoke lightly, but his gaze was intent on her. "You seem surprised, Commander."

"I would think that, as a Human among other Humans, you would have ample opportunity for inconsequential conversation."

"You're forgetting what this particular Human's background is." She watched, fascinated despite herself, as his gaze turned inward as if accessing and processing information. When he focused on her again, it was her turn to be surprised.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," he said.

"For what?"

"For wanting to make small talk, whether your intention was to put me at my ease or to end an awkward silence. Thank you for considering me worth the effort."

He had spoken matter-of-factly, as if making a report, and yet she felt strangely touched by his words. She'd always been so focused on outrunning her past, on trying to make it in Starfleet, she'd never found within herself the time or the inclination for small talk. And yet she'd somehow found them now, with of all people her commanding officer. There must be something about Lieutenant Commander Data...but she wasn't quite ready to figure out what it was.

"I think," she said slowly, meeting his bright-eyed gaze, "we're both trying to find a way to fit in, is all. I hope you don't mind my experimenting with you."

Before she could be thoroughly embarrassed by her choice of words, he answered with the same honesty, "No, I do not. Is it acceptable to you if the experimentation is reciprocal, Lieutenant?"

"Of course, Commander."

He nodded, and then said in a passable imitation of nonchalance, "Nice weather we are having, is it not?"

She broke into a sudden grin. "Especially in space...!"

When they were performing their pre-flights before going into warp, she reached to adjust the astrogator at the same time he did and they inadvertently grabbed each other's hands. She dropped his hand hastily and avoided his eyes as they finished their checks.

Then he turned to her and asked, "Ready?"

She looked into his yellow eyes and deliberately took his hand in hers. She hoped he understood what she intended the gesture to mean, that although it went against her every instinct to put her trust in him, she trusted him now. "Ready," she affirmed.

He held her hand tight in his and put the ship into a high-g turn, pressing them both back into their seats, and Yar's hand slipped from his as she lost consciousness. Data took them safely home.

* * *

Data went to answer the door to his quarters and found Yar standing in the corridor. She began without preamble, "Commander, if you've got the preliminary–" She suddenly stopped herself.

When she didn't continue, Data prompted politely, "If I have the preliminary what, Lieutenant?"

She smiled at her own expense and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Commander, it's just that...what's that music you're playing? I've never heard anything like it."

"Ah. Wolfgang Mozart, a Terran composer. What you hear is his _Symphony in G Minor_, the allegro con brio movement, which has a moderately challenging part for the violin section."

"_Symphony in G Minor_. I'll have to remember that," she said shyly, never having been affected by music to the point of being distracted from her duties. She cleared her throat, embarrassed. "Uh, anyway, I just came by to see if you'd done a preliminary analysis on using controlled oscillations in the Cochrane coils as a possible offensive measure?"

"I am just completing that analysis now." He gestured for her to enter.

She stepped in briskly, then stopped short just inside the door when she realized she'd never been inside the android's quarters before. He had the larger officer's cabin with a sitting room, but instead of a sleeping area, he had installed a complete library computer station.

"Damn," she breathed. "_I_ should have thought of that!"

He turned, already halfway to the main console. "To what are you referring?"

"Your set-up. You don't need to sleep, so you take out the bed and put in a workstation! I never have guests, so I should take out the living area and put in tactical repeater screens so I always know ship's status even if I'm not on the bridge!"

"You never have guests, Lieutenant?" the android asked, curious.

She shook her head. "Not enough time; too much to do." She spied the violin and bow laid carefully on top of the low table in front of the sofa and, in spite of herself, walked to it, only just stopping herself from touching it by folding her arms across her chest. She looked at Data, who calmly watched her. "Do you play?" she asked unnecessarily.

"I play in order to attempt to understand human creativity. I have some facility, but nothing approaching feeling, much less genius."

Yar seemed hardly to hear his explanation as the recorded violins and horns, repeating and augmenting the passage that had caught her attention when she'd walked in, reached a swirling, abandoned crescendo and she unconsciously held her breath, a smile lighting her face. As the movement ended she looked at Data a little blankly, having forgotten why she was even there.

"Would you like for me to start the movement from the beginning?" he offered.

She tried to collect her thoughts and took a deep breath. "Um–wait, that's not...I mean, yes, I'd like to hear the music again, but–the preliminary report!" she remembered suddenly. "Do you–"

The android went around to the working side of the console and checked. "Yes. I have rough estimates and working models ready now."

"Good," she said, relieved, offering him the tricorder she'd been clutching. He plugged it in and downloaded the information for her.

"Would you like to hear the recording from the beginning?" he offered again. "Or do you need to leave?"

She didn't answer right away. "Do you...play along with the music?"

"It is one way to practice, to imitate the great violin masters and try to understand their techniques and what made them unique and great."

She marveled, "When do you find the time?"

"You pointed out yourself that I do not need sleep," he said, and she nodded, thoughtful. "However, there is no reason that you could not combine activities so as to optimize the time you do have."

"Such as?"

"Listening to music while you work on your report," he said, rising and gesturing for her to take his place at the library computer.

Surprised and pleased, she complied shyly, realizing what he was offering her. She sat down to go over the figures, and Data started the music and began to play.

At the end of the movement, Data turned and looked at her expectantly.

"That was wonderful, Commander," she told him sincerely. "Thank you for sharing that with me. I never thought–" She stopped.

"Please do not truncate your sentences when speaking with me, Lieutenant. Please speak freely. I cannot be offending by anything you say."

"You can't, but I can," she explained. "I'm just embarrassed at how little I used to think of you, Commander, and how generous you've been this evening...how generous you've always been. I'm really sorry. Can we start again?"

"If you feel it is necessary for our working relationship to continue to develop satisfactorily–"

"Yes, I do."

"Then let us start again."

She stood and extended her hand. He took it in his and gripped it firmly. "Off-duty, please call me Tasha."

"Please call me Data. And I hope you will feel free to come by my quarters at any time if you would like to listen to music or to my playing."

"Really?"

"Really."

* * *

On their second mission, when they were set to return, she again held her hand out to him. He looked at her as he took her hand and she explained, a little embarrassed, "We held hands before and made it back safe. That's how superstitions start."

He brightened. "Ah! A practice or behavior resulting from a false conception of causation. I have never been present at the inception of one," he told her, taking her hand in his.

She grinned at him. "And we have to do it every time or we won't make it back safely."

* * *

Picard pounded his fists once against the arms of his command chair before he levered himself up and stalked to the tactical station behind him, the only outward sign of frustration he'd shown since Data and Yar had failed to return almost five hours ago from their latest reconnaissance mission.

"This is the last time," Picard muttered as he crossed behind the tactical console. "The last time we use a manned scout to get us front line information–it's too damned dangerous!"

Riker bit down on his impulse to point out that Yar and Data had survived over a dozen such missions and, not for the first time, he wondered how Picard had drawn a command like the _Enterprise_. He could see that in peacetime, Picard would have been the man to captain an exploration vessel, he had the heart, the imagination, to do so. But in a time of war, as now, with the Federation fighting a war it had never wanted with the Klingons, Picard cared too much. People died during war, that was what war was about, you just tried to keep the number of deaths as low as possible. Picard felt death, every death, too keenly to be a captain. He had often made decisions that directly contradicted Riker's own inclinations, and that had been a source of tension between them from the very beginning. Idealists, in Riker's opinion, should never take a ship into battle.

* * *

"We risk the _Enterprise_ abandoning us the longer we remain here," Data felt he had to remind Yar.

"I know, Data," Yar said, her eyes and hands busy as she collected and manipulated the readings they were getting. "But this is big, bigger than anything the Klingons have attempted yet. We've got to know how many ships and how much armament they're committing or our coming here in the first place won't make any sense. We've almost got it."

Yar cast a sideways glance at her mission partner and–yes, her friend. Data knew her better than anyone. They had spent so much time together, just the two of them waiting, watching, that there was almost nothing he didn't know about her.

"Okay, Data, let's go home." She checked her pressure suit and restraints, then put out her hand to him.

He took her hand in his and asked, "Ready?"

"Ready," she confirmed, grasping his hand tightly.

* * *

"Captain," Ensign Wesley Crusher's young yet rock-steady voice announced, "sensors indicate–"

Picard didn't even wait for him to finish his sentence. There should only be one thing that could sneak past their long-range sensors, and if it wasn't what he thought it was they had to move, fast. "Identify. Helm, ready to move us out on my order."

"Helm, aye," Crusher confirmed, manipulating helm controls as he continued to eye the sensor readouts. "Coming into range...it's the _Cixous_, sir. ETA 4.7 minutes."

Picard hit the comm. "Dr. Crusher to the hangar deck." He turned to Riker and ordered, "Command crew briefing thirty minutes from their ETA."

"Aye, sir."

Picard strode down to the ready room and ground out between his teeth, anger masking the fear he'd felt at the thought of losing Yar and Data, "And it had damn well better be worth it!"

* * *

"I'd have to recommend the _Lexington_ be warned off its current position," Yar concluded. She drew an arc into the tactical screen, which showed the projected battle plan two days hence. "If they could move even thirty degrees to the left of this arc, they and the _Yorktown_ teamed could drive a wedge into the Klingon position above Deraien star cluster." She looked to Data to continue.

"Highest probability is that they were massing into a _rhihok nor_ position," the android stated. "Second highest probability is the _qahok baph_ flight pattern. I recommend we tell the lead ships to prepare for both contingencies."

Picard considered the information only a little longer. Data's and Yar's recommendations were never discounted lightly, since they almost always coincided with Picard's own.

"Make it so," Picard said, turning away from the tactical screen. "Ensign Crusher, you will implement heading 172 mark 8, warp 6. Commander Riker, you will forward our intelligence report and recommendation to the _Lex_ –"

"I can do that, sir," Yar said quickly.

"Lieutenant, you're due for a rest period," Picard said.

"Sir, it's my duty shift on the bridge. I should — "

"Lieutenant," the captain said softly. "You and Commander Data just returned from a mission. The fact that your return coincides with your normal work schedule on the bridge does not mean I expect you to — "

"Sir, I feel I — "

"Lieutenant," he said even more softly. "Stand down." Everyone in the briefing room heard his unspoken, "That's an order."

Color rose in Yar's cheeks as she realized how her insistence must have looked to everyone. Tasha Yar, the overachiever. Yet again. "Yes, sir," she acquiesced.

Picard finished giving his orders and looked at everyone around the table. "Report to your stations. Dismissed."

Riker grinned at Yar as he rose and left. She rolled her eyes, acknowledging that the joke was on her and that she wasn't taking the reprimand to heart. Wesley Crusher gave her a sympathetic glance — both of them had an almost driven need to keep proving themselves to Picard — and she smiled at him, grateful. She turned to leave behind LaForge and Doctor Crusher.

end Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

The door chimed. "Enter," Yar called, and then smiled when she saw who was standing in the doorway. "Hi, Data."

"Good evening. I hope I am not disturbing you."

"Never. Come on in." She stretched her arms over her head and didn't stifle a yawn as he sat down across the repeater console from her. The light from the tactical screens she was monitoring made her look unnaturally pale — not unlike Data himself.

Yar looked at him frankly and confessed, "I can't believe I did it again today, Data. I made a fool of myself in front of the captain."

"I do not believe he considers you foolish." At her smile he added, "Overzealous, perhaps, but not foolish." Yar giggled, as Data had intended her to, and he was pleased. "You realize that if he did not regard your abilities highly, you would not be assigned to these missions."

"I know that. I just — I want to give him 110 percent, you know?"

Data nodded. "Are your projections for tomorrow's strategy session finished?" he asked.

"Almost." She indicated two report padds to her right. "I need some numbers from Commander Riker, but it's best to get them tomorrow, closer to launch. It'll change specifics, but not my overall recommendation."

Data nodded. "Then perhaps you would like to listen to a new musical tape I acquired today?"

Yar shook her head at him, her eyes bright. "Do I _look_ like I need a night off?"

He said with all seriousness, "You always need a night off."

She laughed, and Data gave her a small smile in response. "Data," she said, "sometimes you act like you think you're my — mother or something."

"Not a mother, precisely. More like a good friend."

She sat forward and grinned at him. "You're very sweet, Data."

He could think of no way to respond, but found he didn't need to as she got up from her chair. "Tell you what. I'll punch up something to eat and we can listen to that tape of yours. How's that?"

"That sounds ideal."

She went to the replicator and came away with a plate of concentrates and a glass of juice. Since Yar had given up her living area to get the repeater console in her quarters, they sat on her bed to relax. She kicked off her boots and sat cross-legged on the bed, balancing her plate on her knee. Data started the music tape and carefully sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Thanks, Data." She ate slowly and relaxed to the music until her eyes closed, the better to hear. "Mm, that's really lovely," she said. "Where'd you get the tape?"

"Commander Riker was assembling it when I went to his quarters to ask — "

Tasha's eyes flew open and she laughed with disbelief. "You mean this is one of Will's _seduction _tapes?"

Data frowned, accessing his memory. "He did not describe it as such. He called it one in an ongoing series of music tapes to relax to, where he arranges various compositions — " Data stopped, remembering, "But when he handed me a copy, he wished me luck. The comment seemed cryptic at the time — "

"Oh, Data!" she laughed.

"I was not aware of the wide knowledge regarding Commander Riker's choice in music," Data said, sounding more apologetic than defensive.

"Of course not. But the female crew have been talking about it for a while now." Tasha handed her plate to Data and he placed it on the floor.

"I see." Then, "Does it work?" he asked, curious.

She finished her juice. "Does what work?"

"Does the music tape work?" He took her empty glass and bent to set it on top of the plate.

"I don't think Will would still be making them if they didn't."

He straightened and looked at her. "I meant, is it working on you?"

Tasha thought, then observed clinically, "I _do_ feel very relaxed. As if I'd like nothing better than to sit here with you for the rest of the night. But in terms of seduction, I don't think the music alone does the trick — I think there has to be active participation on the seducer's part."

Data acknowledged the comment by stroking a finger lightly across Tasha's cheek.

"Data!" Tasha said, incredulous.

"Yes, Tasha?" he asked, his voice soft, not the matter-of-fact tone he usually used.

She blurted out the first coherent thing that occurred to her. "Is this an experiment in Human behavior?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," he said with typical bluntness, although his voice was still soft as he looked at her. "I can perform sexually, and have done so on occasion in the past. However, in all my research regarding Human behavior, I have come to the conclusion that the sexual function is deemed most satisfactory when it is performed between two people who care deeply for each other — "

"I've heard of that, too," Tasha whispered. Her face went pale as she suddenly realized that where she'd been born and how she'd grown up had so influenced her relationships with men that the joy of "making love" was, just as it was for Data, only a report, a rumor, not something she had ever experienced for herself.

"Tasha, are you all right?" the android asked quickly, noticing the change in her complexion.

She tried to put a laugh in her voice as she said, "You know, I've never — made love in a bed." At his puzzled expression she went on recklessly, "In alleys, tunnels, up against a wall, face down in the dirt, but not once — "

"Then that was not, as I understand the term, 'making love,'" he told her quietly.

Suddenly she couldn't stand his solicitous gaze and she leaped off the bed, pacing, her arms wrapped tight around herself. She was shaking.

_Control, Tasha!_

She stood still, her back to him, trying to collect herself. Why now, years after the last time someone had ever touched her in that way, when she had determined to ignore her past, was it affecting her so badly? Why was it coming back to haunt her?

"It's over," she told herself softly.

"Is it?" Data asked.

She didn't turn. "Well, when will it be?" she demanded, making her voice harsh to mask how unsteady it was. "What do I have to do? I leave the only home I've ever known, I become a chief tactical officer on the Federation's premier battleship, I risk my life on recon missions, I — "

Her throat closed up suddenly and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to go away.

"Tasha?" the android asked.

She shook her head. "You know," she said, her voice cracking but suddenly she didn't care, "in all the time I was at the Academy, all I wanted was a friend to talk to about what happened to me. Just someone to listen, and to tell me I was okay. But I had no time for friends." She turned around, still hugging herself tight, and looked at Data. "I'd imagine what my friend would be like, and sometimes it's like I can almost see her. She'd have long dark hair, and wide dark eyes, and she'd be calm and understanding and she'd listen and she'd accept me even after I told her — " Tears escaped her and she started to cry.

Data's gentle voice reached out to her. "What would you tell her?"

Tasha tried to blink her tears away so she could see the android's face. She knew instinctively that trusting Data now would take more courage than it had to trust him with her mere physical life and she swiped quickly at her eyes.

Data came into sharp, clear focus. His yellow eyes seemed almost liquid as he gazed at her, taking in everything about her. He was calm. Accepting. Her heart leapt — she didn't need an imaginary friend, her friend was sitting right there, ready to understand no matter what she told him.

And in a rush she did, how the pressing weight of man on top of her sent her into a terrifying, blinding panic. How a tongue in her mouth had been an ugly, heavy, lolling thing that made her gag with disgust. How her body had never been a source of pleasure or pride for her, how she had never been caressed but bit and gouged and punched and beaten until she'd screamed, cried, thrown up and still they'd held her down and violated her, laughed at her —

" — and I just wished for death," she whispered, "anything that would stop it from happening again because I couldn't live like that for single second more."

The android went to her and she blindly threw her arms around him, trying to stop shaking, her breath sounding like sobs even though she had stopped crying.

"Tasha," he murmured, holding her close, "that is in the past. You left all that behind you."

Her breathing gradually calmed and, still clinging to him, she let him lead her back to the bed and they sat down.

He took her unsteady hands in his and looked at her. "I would never hurt you, Tasha," he told her, acknowledging simultaneously his acceptance of her past and how much their friendship mattered to him.

"I know," she said softly, then looked into his yellow eyes. "I mean that. I _know_ you wouldn't hurt me, Data. I — trust you."

"Perhaps it is because I am an android, and not a man, that you trust me," he suggested.

She shook her head, confused. "What?"

"You are uncomfortable in the presence of men because of what happened in your past. The women with whom I have previously been intimate seemed to believe that being an android precluded being a man, therefore — "

She frowned, wondering at his uncertainty. "You're not Human, but you _are_ a man, Data," she told him with quiet earnestness. "And I trust you because you've earned my trust. Because we're friends."

Tasha looked down at their joined hands and she suddenly remembered what they'd been talking about before. "Data," she said, "you were saying that sex was best when two people who cared deeply for each other did it." She searched his unnaturally pale face. "Do you care for me that much?"

"Yes," he said simply. "For a mere experiment in Human behavior, any Human would do. But you are not 'any Human.' You are — special to me, Tasha."

Her cheeks flushed at his admission but she smiled, pleased. She realized she wanted to feel what it was like to make love without pain, without fear, and if there was anyone she trusted to test this particular theory with, it was Data. But she felt she had to say before they went any further, "You know, I'm not in love with you."

He nodded. "I realize this. And I cannot be in love with you. But I believe what we feel for each other is enough."

She nodded, feeling awkward, then confessed, "I don't — I don't even know how to kiss, Data!"

"I was programmed with that knowledge and with multiple techniques of sexual pleasuring. But I believe that for Humans, such behavior comes instinctively, if you relax," he assured her.

He released her hands and touched her face lightly. As he examined her face, Tasha looked in the android's eyes and found an innocent curiosity there, and an admiration of what he saw. She looked at him closely in turn, as if seeing for the first time his gold eyes, his pale eyebrows and lashes, his long straight nose and thin lips.

She realized how close their faces were when he leaned forward only slightly and brushed his lips against her forehead. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself as she felt his breath against her temple just before he kissed her there.

Data's kisses were gentle, unthreatening, and she gradually relaxed as his lips touched her, feather-soft, all over her face. When he finally tipped her chin up and kissed her mouth, she kept her lips steady and matched his pressure with hers.

He pulled away and nodded slightly, approving. "For a novice, that was not a poor first attempt." She giggled, self-conscious, then he held her face in his hands and kissed her again and she kissed him back. After a while the action of kissing became familiar, and she felt as if she could spend the rest of the evening simply feeling Data's lips on hers, his even breathing against her face, inhaling the scent of him.

But his gentle kisses and light caresses evoked a response from her and she began to touch him, tentatively at first, then with a sense of urgency as he almost imperceptibly aroused her even more. Her hands went to the fastening of his jacket, fumbling with it until she could slip her hands inside. Then, realizing what she had done, she jerked back and looked at him, surprised.

"I'm sorry — !"

"Do not be," he said, and when he'd taken off his jacket and undertunic she drew a deep breath and put a hand out to him. She touched warm skin, and, curious, she traced the lines of his well-muscled chest, lightly brushed the pale hair there, trailed her fingertips along his collarbone.

She admitted in a whisper, "I've never — never really looked at — or touched — when they — "

Data kissed her lightly, reassuringly, wanting to forestall her memories. "I must admit to some interest regarding your musculature as well," he told her, and was rewarded with her bright smile. They stood to undress and then regarded each other.

"You're beautiful, Data," she breathed. Then she looked at the android, suddenly fearful of his opinion of her body when he had seen and touched so many others.

"And you are exquisite, Tasha," he told her softly but with absolute certainty. She bit her lip, relieved and at the same time affected by his simple assessment.

He drew her close and kissed her. She stiffened only briefly as their bare skin touched, then she surrendered to the feeling, her arms wrapping tight around him to press him as close as possible to her, wanting his warmth, his safety, wanting him to guide her through what she had never experienced before — the feel of her body coming alive under a lover's touch.

And Data gladly relinquished his programmed efficiency to Tasha's instinctive desires, finding, to his surprise, intense pleasure in her wondering caresses that gradually became more purposeful until nothing existed except mouths and fingers and trembling hands and arms, hot, sweaty skin and incoherent sounds as they explored each other impatiently, urgently, and all of his consciousness narrowed to pure sensation, the taste of her sweaty skin, the sound of her soft panting cries, the smell of her full arousal, the feel of — the feel —

She clung to him, breathless, trembling, her face buried in his hair as she lay atop him. He eased them both onto their sides and their noses touched, then their foreheads as she rested against him. Their kisses gradually grew soft and tender, and then they simply looked into each other's eyes, amazed at each other and themselves.

Finally, Tasha asked in a shy voice, "Was it different for you this time, Data?"

"It was indeed different."

She regarded him, curious. "How?"

"I desired you, Tasha," he said, brushing her damp hair, tendril by tendril, back from her face. "And I did not think that was possible, since I have never desired anyone before."

She frowned, not understanding. "But Data, you've been with — "

"My physiology guarantees a sexual climax no matter how little effort is expended in pleasuring me. I need not be aroused or even feel desire, so my past intimacies consisted of using my programming to satisfy my partner, and little more."

"Data!" she said, clearly dismayed for him.

He shook his head. "But this time I wanted very much to pleasure you, and you received what I had to give and you pleasured me in return." His finger lightly caressed the side of her neck. "This time I was aroused, and enjoyed the sensation." His finger traveled to her pale shoulder, tracing back and forth. "And this time I desired you so much, Tasha."

"Did you enjoy pleasuring me? Did you — enjoy touching me?"

He said thoughtfully, "Pleasuring someone sexually was simply another program that I could activate at will, having nothing to do with my enjoying or not enjoying the act itself. This time, with you — " He looked deep into her eyes. "I enjoy knowing you are experiencing pleasure because of my actions." He ran his hand along her arm, feeling the silken skin, the fine hairs, the lean muscles there. "I enjoyed, and enjoy, touching you very much."

Her smile was radiant as she told him, "I enjoyed it, too, Data. I've never felt good about my body, but I felt so much pleasure and — you made me feel beautiful — "

"You are considered beautiful by many of your crewmates," he told her.

"But you're the one who convinced me, Data. You — didn't hurt me. You wanted me." She impulsively hugged him, then as she released him began to rub her hand up and down his back.

"That feels most pleasurable," he murmured. She suddenly giggled, and he looked at her. "Have I said something amusing?" he asked hopefully.

"No. I just thought of something, that's all." She explained, still rubbing his back, "I realized I was petting you like I used to pet this cat, an orange tabby. When I was growing up, it was my only friend."

"And such an action continues to be a mark of affection you bestow on your friends?"

She grinned at him. "Are you teasing me?

"Only if you believe I am," he said, his yellow eyes solemn.

She put her other arm around him and hugged him tight. "Oh, Data!" She laughed genuinely, with no reserve, and he smiled at the sound.

"Tasha." He said her name softly.

"What?" she asked, still grinning. He kissed her lightly, with incredible tenderness. She looked him, surprised and touched. "What is it?" she asked again, her whispered tone matching his.

"I like to hear you laugh. You sound so relaxed."

"I am." She looked at him, and the trust between them, unspoken, was palpable all the same. She had trusted him utterly, had given herself to him despite every good reservation her past had given her, and he had proven her trust.

And she had, oddly enough, proven his. He was an android, not Human at all, and yet she had treated him, responded to him, accepted him as if he were Human. He had never confessed to any of his sexual partners his dream of being Human. And, not even having admitted it to Tasha, she had given him the greatest gift she possibly could have: she hadn't demanded to know the limits of his sexual functions, hadn't tested his endurances — what had happened between them had nothing to do with his programming at all, and everything to do with two people discovering each other's bodies, each other's desires, and how much they cared for each other.

"Data," she sighed, her eyes closing.

Not sure if she was asking for information, he answered, "I am here."

She smiled in her sleep and said contentedly, "Mmm."

He held her close and watched her.

* * *

Tasha stood and ate her concentrates as she scanned the night watch's log entries and status records. "...and it looks like engineering needs to run another diagnostic, they're still showing that Wasserman line dual flux in section 23-F."

Data came over and looked at her repeater screens. "I will discuss possible ways to address the problem with Geordi at the engineering staff briefing today."

She put down her plate and then for the first time looked at Data. "Ever hear of this thing called a comb?" she teased, taking in the android's disheveled hair.

"Yes. I use one every day. However, I do not know where you keep yours."

She walked over to her dresser and pulled one out of a drawer. "Here, let me," she said, taking the comb and slicking Data's hair back for him, following each pass of the comb with a light caress of her hand. "Like that, right?" They both turned to look in the mirror.

"Yes, that is correct. Thank you, Tasha."

"Kind of boring, isn't it?"

The android frowned at their reflection, considering. "This hairstyle suits me, as it is the most utilitarian. It is also by far the most common hairstyle for males aboard the _Enterprise_, and who am I, an android, to go against a majority decision in taste?"

She grinned, suddenly feeling playful. "Well, I guess I can't go against the majority either, can I?" She pulled the comb straight back through her own hair and imitated his hairstyle.

He hesitated. "I am not persuaded of such a style's aesthetic compatibility on you. You are not — utilitarian."

"Well, neither are you, Data. Just humor me and let me conform for one day, okay?"

"Please wait, Tasha." Data took the comb from her and softened the hair near her face, making the line less severe. He considered her critically, then stated, "It is better."

"I'm glad you approve." She patted his cheek.

They attached their phaser sashes and communicators to their uniforms, then walked out of Tasha's quarters and into the turbolift.

As the lift neared the bridge and began to slow, Tasha suddenly squeezed Data's hand, grinning. "Ready?" she teased.

He squeezed her hand back and nodded. "Ready," he said. She laughed and released his hand, and the doors opened and they walked onto the bridge together.

* * *

Riker watched Yar out of the corner of his eye as she quickly assessed the situation and relayed the information the captain needed to make a decision. She was as efficient as she'd ever been, but something was slightly different. Riker regretted that he didn't have the opportunity to observe her frankly, but Yar seemed more relaxed standing next to him, didn't hold herself so distant, seemed to be comfortable sharing her personal space with him.

Her voice was more modulated, too, not as excited or angry as it had been when she'd first come aboard. She wasn't nervous. She was more sure of herself.

When she left the bridge on break he went with her, and as he talked to her over the noise and bustle of Ten Forward, he was fascinated by the subtle change in Yar. She was responsive to his mild flirting and even flirted a little back. It seemed as if, for the first time since she'd come aboard, Lieutenant Yar was emotionally available. When they had to return to duty he asked,

"Do you want to have dinner together?"

"How about tomorrow?" She smiled, and Riker knew it wasn't a rejection. "I have plans tonight."

"All right. Tomorrow."

* * *

Data was playing his violin when the door buzzed. "Enter," he called.

Tasha stood in the doorway. "Hi, Data." As he lowered his violin she said, "Don't stop playing — I just came by to visit."

"I am pleased to see you," he said, gesturing for her to come inside. She smiled and moved into the room. "I know you're busy, Data, but if you don't mind the company, I'd like to stay for a while. I can do some work over here while you play, and then we can talk afterwards, if you like."

"That is agreeable to me."

She sat on the sofa and started working on her compupadd. Data tucked his violin into position and began from the beginning.

When he finished the movement with a flourish he looked over at her. She was smiling at him, and she patted the space beside her on the sofa. He put his violin and bow away and sat down. "Did you wish to talk about anything in particular, Tasha?"

"Yes. I..." She hesitated, and then decided to plunge ahead. "Data, sometimes Humans can act strangely after making love, and I just want you to know that nothing's changed between us. I value your friendship so much. I mean — " She frowned, looking for words, then looked earnestly at him. "Making love was — incredible. But I think even more than the sex, I liked just being that close to you. I've never trusted anyone the way I trust you, Data, and when I was with you last night, for the first time I felt...like someone really trusted _me_."

He tilted his head slightly as he regarded her. "I believe I experienced a similar reaction to our intimacy. I do not wish to for our friendship to change, either."

She smiled at him, and then impulsively leaned forward and kissed him. His mouth softened against hers, returning the kiss sweetly. Her arms wound around his neck and they continued to kiss, and affection and tenderness gradually became something more insistent.

"I have no bed in my quarters," he murmured between kisses. She nodded. After a few more kisses he added in all seriousness, "The desk chair does, however, recline."

Tasha stared at him, and then burst into laughter. At his hopeful expression she assured him, "Yes, Data, that was funny as hell!" He managed to look puzzled and proud at the same time and his expression suddenly made Tasha realize just how special he'd become to her. She gently traced his mouth with a fingertip and said softly, "Oh, Data." Then mischief lit her eyes as she said, "I think we can make do with the sofa, don't you...?"

* * *

"Lieutenant," Picard said suddenly, and Yar turned from the readouts on the time-displacement phenomenon back to her tactical station. "What are their sensor readings? Is that an enemy vessel?" he demanded.

"I'm getting too much interference, Captain," she murmured, her fingers making hairline adjustments in rapid combinations, as Data had taught her to do, trying to refine the readings even as she answered him. Finally she said, "Clearing now, Captain. Definitely a Federation starship." She turned her attention to a different panel. "Accessing registry."

Riker, who had watched Yar's performance with approval, now turned his attention to the forward viewing screen. "Looks like they've had a rough ride," he commented.

Yar read off, "NCC one-seven-oh-one...C." Picard turned, but Yar was looking with disbelief at the forward screen. "U.S.S. — _Enterprise_," she breathed.

* * *

She and Data boarded the lift, and the android requested, "Engineering." The lift didn't move. He turned to Yar and asked, "Is Engineering your destination as well?"

"What?" She turned, saw that the lift was holding and that Data was politely waiting for her. "Oh. Deck 6," she requested. She smiled apologetically at him. "Sorry."

Data was about to face forward again, but something about her countenance made him turn to her. He ventured gently, "If I interpret your facial expression correctly, you are preoccupied with something...unpleasant."

"No." She turned to face him. "I was just thinking. About a lot of things." She hesitated, then sighed and confessed, "I've been working with one of the officers on the _Enterprise_ C." Her face lit up as she smiled and admitted, "He — he's nice, I like him. I'm worried about what's going to happen to him."

Data tried to say what was honest in as mild a way as possible. "We may never know what happens," he told her, his flat gold eyes somehow conveying sympathy for her feelings. "If they succeed, we will not even realize these events have occurred."

* * *

Data stopped in his quarters on his way from Engineering to the Bridge, but the door buzzed just as he was about to leave. "Enter," he called.

"Hi, Data." The door closed behind the security chief.

"Tasha," he greeted, moving towards her.

"Data, I — I'm transferring to the _Enterprise_ C. I wanted to say goodbye," she told him in a rush, trying to get past her emotion to say what she had to.

"Why are you transferring to the _Enterprise_ C?" he asked. His voice wasn't accusing or incredulous, but neutral, seeking information and trying to understand her orders, and his tone steeled her nerves and calmed her. She told him how their conversation in the turbolift and watching Lieutenant Castillo return to his ship had led to her talk with Guinan, and then to ask for the transfer.

Seeing she was agitated, he led her to the sofa and they both sat down. "Are you in love with Lieutenant Castillo?" he asked gently.

She answered honestly, "I don't know, Data. What I feel for him is different from what I feel for you, that's all I really know. Lieutenant Castillo — Richard — we hardly know each other, we even come from two different times, but...I care for him. I'm attracted to him."

She went on, "You know I love you, Data, more than I've ever loved anyone. We've known each other for so long. And when I'm with you, I'm more myself than at any other time, I can — say things, do things I couldn't otherwise, because you accept me for who I am. I'm not nervous or scared around you. But Richard makes me a little nervous. Not in a bad way. It's kind of — I feel — tingly around him." She shook her head, embarrassed. "That sounds stupid."

"It is not stupid if it is accurate," Data told her, and she smiled, grateful.

"You know how intense I can be when I get caught up in something. We were standing in Ten Forward and I was telling him about defensive upgrades since the _Enterprise_ C was commissioned and...I called him 'lieutenant' and he looked at me, and he was kind of shy and he smiled and he offered not to salute if I didn't. And that was kind of funny, you know, and for the first time I really looked at him. And I knew he liked me. Even though I'd been talking tech at him for 24 hours straight, he liked me."

She looked at the android and sighed. "Oh, Data, I don't know, I just feel — uncertain. But when I'm with you, I'm so certain, so confident."

"It is a most intriguing dichotomy," the android commented.

"In any case, how I feel about Richard — in love or not — isn't the reason I requested a transfer. I'm not fooling myself into thinking that by joining his ship, I can pursue a relationship with him. I'm going because it's what's best for the Federation, not because it's what's best for me or Richard. I think that with my defensive and tactical knowledge I might buy the _Enterprise_ C some time, and that might make everything right for the rest of you."

"If you make everything right for us, you will die," he pointed out in a voice so soft she reached out and took his hands in hers.

"We could have died on any one of those missions but we kept going out because of the good of the Federation, because we might be able to save a few lives, make a dent in the Klingon defenses. That's all I'm doing now. The fact that it might bring you a better life — pleases me. So much." She touched his face gently. "You deserve so much."

"Guinan told you that you and she were not even supposed to know each other because you died a senseless death in the other timeline. Does that mean that, in the other timeline, we never meet either?" Data wondered aloud.

She looked down. "I don't know. I can't imagine — " Her voice caught, and she leaned forward, resting her forehead against his, her eyes closed. "What kind of person would I have been without you, Data, unable to trust, unable to open myself up, unable to love? You've taught me so much, given me so much. If it weren't for you I wouldn't feel secure enough to take a chance like this. Before your 'civilizing influence,' Data, I might have done this for all the wrong reasons — to prove myself, because I was acting before I was thinking, because I didn't want someone to one-up me in the honor and courage department– — whatever. But I know I don't have to prove anything to anyone, and I can do something simply because I know it's the right thing to do."

"You have taught me much as well, Tasha. How to interact with Humans, the things that smooth social contact. What friendship and caring and love mean. The difference between 'exercising my sexual function' and 'making love' — "

She smiled and moved a little away so she could look at him. "Data, you're just a sentimental old slob."

"Sentimental old — "

"But so am I." Her eyes searched his face, trying to impress on her mind every detail of it. Then she stood up abruptly, unfastening her silver officer's phaser sash. "I can't take anything with me, you know how little I have anyway — " He stood as well, and Tasha held out her sash. "Data, it meant so much to me when I earned the right to wear this. I'd like you to have it. Please." She threw her arms around him. "Oh, Data, I won't ever forget you," she whispered fiercely.

"I _cannot_ forget you, Tasha," he whispered back, embracing her close. "And I would not have it any other way."

They kissed, hesitantly at first, and then tenderly, saying goodbye, understanding exactly what each was about to do.

"Ready, Data?" she said softly.

"Ready, Tasha." She stepped out of his arms and was gone.

Her sash was still warm from her waist as Data held it in his hand. He adjusted it, took off his own sash and fastened hers around his waist. Then he walked out of his quarters and made his way to the bridge.

FIN


End file.
